


Smooth as Silk

by Avdal



Series: A Firm Hand and Gentle Touch [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Blindfolds, Bondage, Clothing Kink, Corsetry, Everyone is of age, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hardcore, Light Bondage, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Praise Kink, Prostitution, Role Reversal, Sensation Play, Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stockings, Student becomes the teacher, Urethral Play, Voice Kink, Young Ben Solo, so many kinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 04:05:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avdal/pseuds/Avdal
Summary: “Lay down on your bed.”Miss Rey stand up and opens the snap on her clutch purse.  He stares at her blankly and she smiles back.  Does he have a dumb expression on his face?  Because it feels like he has a dumb expression on his face.When he lays down, Miss Rey moves to stand next to him.  She draws out a long and thin banner of fabric.  It shines in the soft lighting with a pleasing gleam.“Is that a- a blindfold?” he asks nervously.





	Smooth as Silk

**Author's Note:**

> alt summary:  
> After three months of her playing with him, Ben was head over heels in love with Miss Rey. His mistress was everything he was missing from his life, but she still held herself back. She never let him worship her in the way he was desperate for. Today was the day all of that changed. Today was the day that he finally got to give back the pleasure she had been giving to him.

“Did you like your gift?”

 

Ben hadn’t planned on that being the first thing out of his mouth when his dream girl walked in through the door, but it just sort of blurted out without thinking. He doesn’t do whole lot of thinking around Miss Rey, honestly.

 

The perfect lady in question slows her pace for one step and one step only. She keeps her coat on, Ben notes. She always takes it off when she first comes into his home. Sometimes she puts it on the stand near the door and sometimes over the back of a chair and sometimes she takes her shoes off too and it’s just her fishnet clad toes padding on his floor and that kind of drives him crazy, too. Not that he notices all that much.

 

“You had it sent to my office,” she says.

 

Ben swallows, his stomach fluttering at her perfectly even tone. 

 

“Yes. Because… you kept sending the other gifts back. And the flowers. And the chocolates. And the other pretty little-”

 

“Ben,” she sits and crosses her legs primly at the ankles, “you shouldn’t have done that. We’re not supposed to receive gifts at the office. You nearly got me in trouble.”

 

Ben wants to apologize. Wants to tell her that it was the only way she would let him show her how much he cares.

 

But she’s wearing dark stockings with a purple sheen to them. He can only see her ankles and even then it’s just a peek at that.

 

Dark stocking like the ones he had sent her. She’s wearing them. She’s really wearing her gift?

 

“Ben...”

 

Her legs cross and uncross. Dark. Ankles. Perfect.

 

“It won’t happen again, Miss Rey.”

 

He says it out of reflex. A reflex that she’s worked into him again and again over their now three months of their arrangement. He pays her, and she gets to play with him. She makes the rules, and he obeys unquestionably.

 

Except… except today he hadn’t. He’d been naughty. He had seen the lingerie in the window. Agent Provocateur had always the best store displays and he'd had that awkward moment of staring transfixed into the glass like a teenager until the security guard had cleared his throat and told him to take a hike.

 

“Did you like it?” he asks shyly.

 

The price tag of the full ensemble had taken a few years off his life. It was into the four digits, and Ben knew better that Rey couldn’t be bought because he’d already _tried_ …

 

“Pour me a drink, will you?” she answers. “Vodka and cranberry, if you have it. Otherwise vodka and orange juice.”

 

Ben realizes that he’d been hovering by the door with his hand in his pants pocket holding his dick down. She hadn’t noticed that part, right?

 

When he mutely obeys, he can’t help but remember the last time he had been naughty. He had just finished cumming all over her perfect palm and, so swept up in the joy of the moment, he had leaned up an kissed her. Miss Rey had a strict ‘no kissing’ rule, aside from a rather sophisticated and European three-step peck. She had been angry with him then, too. She hadn’t told him she was, but then she hadn’t been available for the next four sessions after that.

 

Ben can’t risk that happening again, but he also can’t risk not spoiling her silly even if she doesn't want him to.

 

His hands are trembling as he brings her ruby red drink over to her. She accepts it with a demurely downward tip of her head.

 

“You don’t have your bag with you?” he asks, fidgeting with his hands.

 

She always has this black patent leather bag of goodies with her. Ben has his own robust, _very_ robust, selection of toys, but aside from the sounding rods Miss Rey prefers to use her own on him.

 

No bag this time. Just a little clutch purse that she holds over her lap. 

 

“Ben?” 

 

Miss Rey’s voice is very sweet and it makes his pulse spike with two very warring emotions.

 

“Miss Rey.”

 

“Why did you send a gift to my agency? You knew you shouldn’t do that. What did you think would happen?”

 

Her smile doesn’t waver but Ben’s heart is suddenly in his throat.

 

He wants to pace. Wants to prostrate before her. She’s not happy with him. He fucked up and now the only thing left is the truth.

 

“Because- because I thought you would secretly like it and you deserve it.”

 

Please don’t leave. Please please. The worst thing in Ben’s world would be for his gift to be misinterpreted.

 

Miss Rey clears her throat. Ben can’t bring his eyes up off the floor. Up from that black stocking ankle of hers, except now it makes him feel sick to his stomach. He’s such a screw up. Ruins everything for himself, even when he’s paying for it, and now she’s going to leave and-

 

“Take off your clothes and lay on the bed.”

 

Leave and- Leave- Leeee-

 

Ben’s thoughts come to a mental skidding thought.

 

Her green eyes are unwavering. Ben doesn’t dare ask her to repeat herself.

 

Mechanically he undoes the top button of his white pinstriped shirt. Then the second one. Takes his time with the third, waiting for something, anything from her.

 

A neutral expression, neither warm nor cold. She sips her drink when he reaches the fifth button. When he slides his shirt off with all the confidence and grace of a preteen boy in the school locker room, she gives him a pity trophy.

 

“You have a beautiful body,” she says. “You must work very hard for it.”

 

He does, in fact. He did before he dialed her into his life, but since their sessions have become regular Ben has never been more cut. He’s got to work out some of his sexual tension in the gym instead of the shower and balance out how one of his arms was getting a little bigger than the other.

 

He lets his hair fall over his face as he unzips his slacks, leaving his boxer-briefs on. Then he stands up at full attention in more ways than one.

 

Miss Rey thoughtfully taps her chin with the index finger of her left hand. The one with the long, perfectly cherry red nails. They had a conversation about her nails before and Ben swallows down the lump in his throat at the memory.

 

“Have you been regular with your sounding?” she asks.

 

Ben swallows. Nods. Her eyes never leave the stretched fabric over his erection.

 

“Is that what you want to do tonight again?”

 

Ben hadn’t thought they far ahead when he’d scheduled her for tonight. Anything and everything. He just wanted _her_.

 

“...if you would like to?” he says. “Is that okay? I mean, I know I’m paying for you and-”

 

“Ben? Sweetie? I’ve spent the better part of three months easing various things in and out of your dick hole. I think it’s high time for us to try something different, don’t you?”

 

How could he say anything but ‘yes’? But Ben’s heart still falls at the thought that maybe, just possibly maybe, his flawless Miss Rey might not have been as head over heels excited as he was over their frequent urethral play sessions. 

 

But he’d been getting much better. They’d worked him all the way up to an 8mm comfortably and he hadn’t spontaneously come on her face even once, excluding their first time which Ben doesn’t count since he was a beginner.

 

“You’re very quiet tonight Mr. Ben,” she says when eh doesn’t answer.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

She smiles. Oh, the corners of her eyes crinkle. Ben swallows, his erection not going down by even a millimeter despite the subdued tone of their conversation.

 

“Lay down on your bed.”

 

Miss Rey stand up and opens the snap on her clutch purse. He stares at her blankly and she smiles back. Does he have a dumb expression on his face? Because it feels like he has a dumb expression on his face.

 

When he lays down, Miss Rey moves to stand next to him. She draws out a long and thin banner of fabric. It shines in the soft lighting with a pleasing gleam.

 

“Is that a- a blindfold?” he asks.

 

Her smile grows and she nods.

 

“Yes, it is. Now lift your head up and smooth your hair down, I don’t want to get it tangled in this.”

 

She didn’t ask him if it’s okay. He likes that. They have an unspoken agreement that he’ll tell her if she ever crosses the line, which she hasn’t even come remotely closed to in these months. He’s pretty much down for anything Miss Rey and he has a safe word. Not sure if he remembers it right now, but it’s there if he needs it.

 

The silk is smooth and slippery cool against his skin as she wraps it around his head. Ben gasps at the tightness of the knot his Rey chooses. She _really_ doesn’t want him to see what’s happening.

 

“Comfy?” she asks.

 

He can feel her so close. She must be leaning in, the scent of the drink on her breath tickles his upper lip. He nods, but he’d nod to just about anything right now.

 

“Good. Now, Mr. Ben, you’re going to do exactly what I say next, do you understand?”

 

He nods again.

 

Two smooth touches- her fingertips, he dimly realizes- circle his left nipple. Then they pinch and he yips. Not even yelps, it’s a short and embarrassing _yip_ met by a tsk of disapproval from Miss Rey and  soothing circles from her fingers.

 

“Say it out loud,” she tells him gently. “Be a good boy for me.”

 

He gulps. His throat is so dry. He can feel her warmth near him, but only her hand on his chest is actually touching him.

 

“I’ll do everything you say, Miss Rey,” he repeats, rhyming without meaning to.

 

She laughs. A little tuft of windswept humor skips along his temple.

 

“But you’ve been bad, haven’t you?” Her hand caresses lower, gliding along his abdomen to circle his belly button. “You’ve been very bad. You almost got me fired, do you know that?”

 

He shakes his head. The touch lifts.

 

“N-No, Miss Rey. I didn’t know that.”

 

The touch comes back.

 

“You did, bad boy. If I'd gotten fired, where would you be right now? Not with me, absolutely, but where would you be?”

 

H er hand rests, warm and palm open, over his lower stomach. She’s inches from touching his straining cock. Funny how she’s done  _things_ to that part of his body, but now that he can’t see her patting his belly like a good boy is somehow the hottest, most intimate thing he’s ever felt.

 

“I’d-” he has to lick his lips to whet them as his dick leaks a drop, “I’d be right here. I’d have jerked off at least twice by now. I’d miss you and be losing my mind.”

 

Her breath moves closer. Ben swallows his spit.

 

“Now you’re never going to do that again, are you?” she asks. “You’re never going to get me in trouble at work again, _right?”_

 

He nods.

 

Oops.

 

He  _nods_ .

 

What he meant was-

 

“Not to your work, Miss Rey. But I want to give you things. I want to show you how much I adore you.”

 

Her hand inches an inch lower. Inch by inch almost touching him.

 

“I can’t be bought, Mr. Ben.”

 

He could almost come. Almost. 

 

“I want to make you happy,” he blurts without thinking, “I want to give you everything but all I have is money.”

 

A silence. Her hand stays still.

 

“Oh?”

 

_ Oh _ is all she finally says.

 

“Did you like it?” he asks, desperation rising in his chest. “Did you at least look at them? I saw those- I don’t even know what you call them- those _little things_ and I thought of you. All I could think about was how perfect you’d look in them.”

 

Another pause. Something wet touches his shoulder. Wet and warm.

 

Oh…  _gods_ . Did she just kiss his skin?

 

“They were expensive,” he offers, feeling pathetic even as he says the words. “They were very expensive but all I could think about was you.”

 

A pinch. A flick. Miss Rey flicks her thumb and middle finger against the side of his very hard, very ready to be played with shaft. The tightly stretched fabric only slightly dulls the feeling.

 

“Oh _I know_ , Mr. Ben. I looked them up. Agent Provocateur. That’s pure class right there.”

 

Pure class and pure price tag. Not that Ben’s counting. Just… just sayin’...

 

And he can’t tell if she’s mocking him. And doesn’t especially care, either.

 

“You are a goddess.”

 

Again, speaking not thinking.

 

“Thank you. Now you’re going to obey me. You’re going to keep the blindfold on and you _won’t_ take it off until I say you can. If you do, I will leave.”

 

Not a question. Ben half nods, half bobs his head in a strange way.

 

Miss Rey hums, the soft sound of it making a backdrop to the pounding of his heart in his ears. He tries to relax against his mattress, but his chest still jumps when her hand strokes along the length of his sternum. Her long nails tickle and he knows which hand she’s using and it’s all just too good and perfect.

 

“Now what should I do with you first?” she says.

 

“Anything. Absolutely anything you want.”

 

“Now there’s a good boy.”

 

Her hand slides down, trailing along his abs. He squirms slightly as she tickles him.

 

“Do you know what your best feature is, Mr. Ben?” 

 

Her voice is warmer than it was a second ago.

 

“My razor sharp intellect and sparkling personality?” he guesses.

 

She laughs. He loves the sound of it. It’s a nice laugh. Not fake and not haughty or too pitched. A very pleasing laugh to match the very pleasing rest of her.

 

“Well, your third best feature, then?”

 

Her fingers snag on the top band of his underwear and he feels a tug.

 

“Up up, Mr. Ben. Let me see it.”

 

She slides his boxer briefs off and he helps her kick them free from around his feet. Then the bed dips and his cock twitches as she traces the vein running along the bottom underside. 

 

“Lovely,” she praises.

 

If Ben had been confident that he could speak in a normal voice, he would humble brag that he’d had to track down the longer length of sounding rods for himself.

 

“Now, I don’t want you to be hard,” she says. “That’s an order.”

 

Ben frowns, his thumbs fidgeting against the sheets.

 

“Um… I’m already hard.”

 

She _tsks_. He fights the impulse to try to peak out from the bottom edge of the blindfold. That would probably be cheating and all he can see is a tiny crack of light anyhow.

 

“Then get unhard,” she prompts. “Go ahead. Go on with it.”

 

Well… to get _un_ hard, Ben usually just jerks off. He can usually buy himself a few hours or two between erections that way, though around Miss Rey it’s more like twenty minutes.

 

“I, um-” he stutters, “I can-”

 

His hand starts to creep toward himself but she lightly smacks it away.

 

“No, not like that,” she says chidingly. “No hands. Be creative.”

 

No hands. Right. Gross thoughts. That’s what he needs.

 

Pop culture says that he’s supposed to imagine his grandmother in a bikini but granny died young and she was damned gorgeous so that’s not exactly going to help. Or his own mother in that infamous gold bikini but even Ben thinks he’ll need years of therapy if he goes too far down _that_ mental rabbit hole.

 

So Hux, then? Hux’s withering stare. That stupid, I hate you sneer he makes. That appealed look he gave Ben when they had to stand next to each other at the urinals in the office bathroom…

 

Rey giggles, the sound of it immediately breaking him out of his reverse fantasy.

 

“It’s bouncing.” Her voice is so light and amused. “Whatever you’re thinking about is making it _bounce_.”

 

“Um...”

 

What is he supposed to say to that? Between sexy grandma and ball-withering Hux his cock didn’t know which direction was up anymore?

 

He gasps when she unexpectedly cradles him. Her palm is smooth, warm, and coated in lube. He hadn’t even realized she’d put any on, but now she starts to stroke him with tantalizing gentleness and all his hard work is undone in an instant.

 

Ben stutters, trying to make his brain and mouth work together.

 

“Shhh...” she hums. “You’re alright. I give you a full A for effort, I just wanted to see what you would do about it. Sometimes I don’t know how you men can walk around with these things.”

 

She strokes his length with agonizing slowness. A deep, full pump from base to tip with a firm grip that feels incredible but they both damned well know he won’t be able to get off with this pace.

 

Ben sighs, fisting the sheets under his hands and submitting to her playtime torture. It’s not like he hasn’t had edging fantasies about her before. Usually they’re centered on him being a brat and then Miss Rey needing to punish him, which is actually exactly what’s going on right now, now that he thinks about it…

 

“Good?” she asks.

 

He moans an answer. Words are too hard right now. _He’s_ too hard right now. He’s getting dizzy with the lack of blood flowing to his brain. Maybe that’s why she had him lay down for this.

 

“Miss Rey...”

 

“Do you want to cum?”

 

Her free hand, the one with the short nails, moves from cradling his balls to putting circular pressure around his ass. He can feel a thick glob of precum leak out from his slit only to be caught in her palm and worked in with the lube.

 

“Y-y-yes.”

 

Could he cum like this? Probably. He’s come with a six inch tube of steel in his dick, earning him both his own inner surprise that he could force the rod out as well as a gently lecture from Miss Rey on why he’s not supposed to do that. 

  
So yeah, he can definitely cum now.

 

“Well you can’t,” she says. “I forbid it.”

 

He whines and bucks his hips, getting more mindless by the moment. She pushes him back down, tightly circling the base of his cock with one hand while flicking at the rim of the head with her other.

 

More precum is pushed out and Miss Rey sighs, her breath tickling his wet head. 

 

“You really have a lovely cock, Mr. Ben. This could give a woman a lot of pleasure if you know how to use it right.”

 

She said ‘cock’. He loves it. Loves _her_.

 

“Oh!” he cries out when she goes back to pumping him. “Show me! I can learn! I’ll learn!”

 

Her hands pull away, leaving him utterly dejected and only a few seconds or less away from the edge. His cock bobs painfully and he grits his teeth as he wills himself back. He’s not going to splash her. He’s learned his lesson from the first time. He’ll only cum when she says he can, which he hopes is soon for both their sakes.

 

“I don’t normally teach that,” she says, her voice coming from closer to his head now and he longs to just rip this blindfold off so he can look up at her. 

 

“But I’ll think about it,” she continues. “Tonight's about trying something different, so maybe we’ll do exactly that.”

 

Ben hears a rustle of fabric. A swoosh and a wash of air around his ankles. 

 

“Are you taking your coat off?” he asks.

 

“Yes.”

 

Her feet pad on his carpet. He knows the sound of that as well. He’s actually jacked off once right on a spot she’d been standing for a while. Not his proudest whacking session by any means, not to mention the regrettable cleanup afterwards.

 

“Would you like to see me?” 

 

He literally can’t nod fast enough. His hands fly to the knot of the blindfold but a silken foot tips on his chest and pushes his back down.

 

“I didn’t say you could take it off yet, Ben,” she chides gently. “You can _feel_ me, if you’d like, but you can’t look until I allow it.”

 

The bed dips along his side. Rey settles next to him and he can feel the heat from her skin ghosting against his own.

 

“Mr. Ben? Calm down. Be a good boy for me.”

 

Ben nods. Tries to get to grips with himself without being too literal about that. Maybe he was going a little nuts over here. Maybe.

 

Her weight shifts, spreading out along the bed as he imagines her laying on her side next to him. She picks up his closer hand and guides it over. Whatever he is touch is a mix of bare, smooth skin with a gentle curve and then edges of soft fabric. Her hip. He’s touching her hip?

 

“What part of this outfit did you like best?” she asks, slowly stroking his hand first up then down. “What part made you want to go and spend all that money and buy it for me?”

 

Her waist is firm, encased in the thick brocade of a proper tight-lacing corset. When she moves his hand lower, he can feel the edges of her garter belt and the smooth lines of it following the shapes of her thighs.

 

“The stockings.” His throat is dry and tight. “I liked them best.”

 

“Really?” she says. “Well they’re very nice. I liked the corset best myself. It makes me look so teeny tiny and it’s such a pretty shade.”

 

“Purple,” he mumbles. “I thought you’d look good in purple.”

 

She’d look good in anything, but that purple shade was _royal_.

 

“Thank you,” she repeats.

 

“Are you wearing it?” he asks. “Are you really wearing it now?”

 

The weight on the bend shifts again, some of her close heat leaving him. 

 

“Give me your other hand and find out.”

 

Now the bed dips on the other side of him and her weight settles on his lower abdomen. Miss Rey is _straddling_ him, Ben dimly realizes. It’s all he can do to contain himself and not ruin her perfect little outfit right here and now. The thought of her sitting on his stomach, so close to his straining length- kriff, he can even feel the hot apex of her legs pressing against him…

 

He reaches out blindly, and she guides both his hands to cradle her waist. He can feel the rigid stays of her corset and, when she lets him circle his touch around to her back, there’s something profoundly moving about the tight criss-crossing of the lacings.

 

“You can explore me, Ben. Trust me I’ll let you know if you step out of line, but I think it’s time I get a little more out of our sessions, don’t you agree?”

 

Right now Ben is close to signing away every penny to his name and every piece of property he own. 

 

He nods, his palms itching to keep going and paint the mental image for him.

 

Slowly, every bit as painfully slowly as when she was teasing him before, Miss Rey guides his hands all over her body. Some parts like her arms are innocent enough, though when he strokes her face he must spend too much time tracing the curves of her lips because she lightly bites him then guides his hands to move on.

 

This is absolutely the most he’s ever felt of her. Such an odd thought because _she’s_ had her left hand knuckles deep in his ass fingering his prostate while flicking the end of a metal rod sticking out of his pee hole. She pretty much knows him more than he knows himself at this point.

 

When their linked hands slide to her breasts his heart skips a beat. She leaves his palms cradling her through the heavy brocade and then her torso kind of shimmies and he hears a click. Oh. She undoing the top of her busk. This was a real, proper corset. It was probably for the best she does that herself or he would have just ended up pinching her and ruining the moment.

 

“Would you like to play with them?” she asks unnecessarily.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Her soft laugh at his sheepish tone eases some of the awkwardness of the moment. She must have only done the first one or two clasps of the busk because there’s still plenty of tension from the rigid garment for him to contend with. 

 

Ben tries to caress her, but between the corset and his own blindness he more or less fumbles inelegantly.

 

“Come up, Ben,” she says after a few minutes of him playing ‘tune in Tokyo’ with her hard nipples. “Lean up and give me your lips.”

 

They’re going to kiss. He’s wanted to kiss her since- well since forever. And he has but this time he’s even going to be allowed too…

 

Ben nearly knocks her off his lap in his sudden burst of energy. He tries to scoop her up into his arms, but her quick fingers tighten in his hair and push him back down.

 

“Open,” is all she says.

 

Then she guides his head to her nipple. Ben freezes. This is a trick. This has to be a trick.

 

“Kiss, suck, nip. Not always in that order. You’ll know when it’s right.”

 

Is it just Ben’s mind or does Miss Rey’s voice have a slightly huskier tone than it normally does? For himself, Ben knows he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence let alone talk in any reasonable way.

 

Oh and of course he fumbles at first. He trembles from more than just the strain of lifting this upper body off the mattress while his arms are around her waist. But he _has_ to play through the burn, must pleasure his beautiful goddess like she demands of him.

 

She hums softly, and there’s slight shake in her breath. It’s a subtle thing; he wouldn’t have heard it if his head wasn’t pressed to her chest as his tongue rolls in circles around her left nipple. 

 

Soon he figures it all out. Lap and suck with his tongue while his hand keeps her other breast engaged. Nothing harsh and hard, that’s what he wants but his Rey deserves a more gentle touch doesn’t she? It feels natural, and judging by her unsteady exhalations he must be doing something right.

 

“Mhmmm,” she hums, the vibrations of it tickling his lips. “That’s a very good boy.”

 

His neck strains, tendons around his upper vertebrate starting to go into spasms, but her praise makes it all worth while. His neglected dick leaks again, probably staining the corset at her back where it’s knocking, but his mistress’s blissful reactions make anything worthwhile.

 

Then she gentle detaches herself, pushing him back down. He pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly against her palms.

 

“Are we- can we have sex?” he asks. “Pretty please.”

 

Her thighs wrapped around his chest shake with her mirth. 

 

“I don’t do _that_ , Mr. Ben. But I do other things. Would you like to keep going? Are you tired yet?”

 

What a ridiculous question. Ben is very, very much _up_ right now. 

 

He shakes his head, and the bed shifts again. He feels Miss Rey scoot herself a little lower down his body, which has the delightful side effect of bringing more of her panty-clad backside into contact with his boner. 

 

It makes him want to warn her that he could honestly cum at any moment with zero warning. But, if he gave in and did exactly that, this would all be over too soon and he so badly wants to know what she has planned next.

 

Miss Rey takes his hands back in her own. This time she traces the curve of her ass then her thighs. She wraps his palms around one of her legs and glides their touch up and down. Now he can feel both the thickness of the garters and the impossibly smooth silk of the stockings.

 

“Do you like them?” she asks.

 

Ben is not sure but maybe, just maybe, he feels a tear leak out of the corner of his eye. She is beyond perfect. He knows this for a fact and he can’t even see her.

 

“Yes. You look beautiful.”

 

Again her laugh, but it’s short lived. Almost immediately she guides just one of his hands- his dominant hand- up to cradle her sex. She’s slick over the thin silk, her wetness feeling impossible on his rough fingertips.

 

“Do you like that too?”

 

Does he- how Ben isn’t cumming right now is completely beyond him.

 

“Good. Now push my panties aside and find my clit. You do know where the- oh! _Oh gods_ you do!”

 

Miss Rey shudders, her weight collapsing as he immediately zones in on her hard little button of pleasure. Yeah, he knows where he supposed to go. Blindfolded or not, it’s easy to find Miss Rey’s clit because he’s spent literally every single night of the last three month pondering this part of her body.

 

That, and maybe he’s seen a few education pornos. Like just one or two. Thousand. Maybe.

 

His Rey trembles over him, her thighs shaking as she grips him in the vice of her legs. Right now, at this moment, Ben doesn’t even really feel his own need to cum. Just a pure desire to pleasure her and feel and hear her come apart on his on fingers.

 

“Use just your thumb.” Her voice is higher than before and he fucking loves it. “Keep your thumb on my clit and st-straight- oh, just do it like this.”

 

Rey’s fingers wrap around his hand, positioning it exactly like she wants. She juts his thumb out, keeping it front and center on her button, and she crooks his middle and forefinger at ninety degrees. Straightens them and whispers to him to keep them rigid.

 

When she impales herself, all Ben can think is how incredibly _tight_ she is. Her inner muscles are bands of hot and wet silk, and they grip his fingers so firmly she has to rock her hips from side to side as she eases herself down onto them.

 

“Now, you need to-”

 

Miss Rey chokes on whatever she was going to say as Ben takes his own initiative. He seeks out her G Spot, remembering every article and educational wank-fest material he’s seen on the subject. Along the top wall. Spongy. A hard ridge. If you press on it and she gasps, you’re in the right place.

 

Ben has watched enough porn to- yeah, Ben has watched enough porn _period_.

 

He presses. Rey gasps. He could die happy.

 

She holds his wrist tightly, keeping him in place but allowing him to set the fast pace that he fingers her. 

 

“More, please.”

 

Despite the circumstances, she says it so politely. That’s her. That’s his Miss Rey.

 

Ben pushes harder, keeping up the assault of his thumb on her clit. According to the videos, he really can’t press too hard on her G Spot and that seems to be true. He lets her ride his hand, controlling both the angle and force that he rubs her with. 

 

Rey moans, her upper body collapsing against him as she trembles. Her inner muscles pulse and he only crooks his fingers deeper inside her, letting her ride out her orgasm in the nicest possible of ways. Who cares if his hand is cramping? Not Ben at all. After this he’s done, he’ll never need another porno ever again.

 

Ben kisses her temple as the waves against his touch start to slacken. He’d prefer her mouth, but that’s all he can find without looking.

 

He’s not sure she even notices. Pity. But she laughs as she unsteady withdraws herself from his fingers.

 

“Good boy,” she praises breathlessly, “that was wonderful.”

 

Ben both preens and somehow feels suspended in time. 

 

The bed shifts as her weight leaves it and there’s a ringing in his ears. He hasn’t cum yet. Hasn’t seen her yet. Will she let him have either?

 

A gentle swoosh of fabric. Ben bites his lower lip.

 

“Ready?” she asks.

 

Again with the unnecessary questions. Is _she_ ready might be more apt. 

 

But Ben hadn’t expected a new sensation along his cock. Soft, slippery, and silken. Dimly, he realizes that she’s jerking him off with her sticking. He hadn't been lying when he said that was his favorite part of the outfit.

 

Bless you, Agent Provocateur, because when Ben cums it’s with a roar and harder than any orgasm before, even the one that literally pushed metal out of his urethra.

 

Miss Rey had been in the middle of telling him he could cum whenever he wanted.

 

“Oh!” was all she had said at the spontaneous and immediate reaction that had followed.

 

Being the professional certified Goddess that she is, she pumps him through it, stroking him with her silk stocking until every last drop of cum splashes out of him.

 

Then that’s it. Ben is gone too the world. Funny how Rey had recovered from her climax within seconds but Ben just lays there motionless and listening. Listening to her praise and happy laugh. Listening to the wet sound of her pooling her now soiled stocking in a spiral along his chest. He even listens as she puts her coat back on and then steps to him. 

 

“Count to ten, Mr. Ben,” she whispers.

 

Her lips touch his. Just touch. Barely. Then she pulls away.

 

“Ten?” 

 

“Ten- no, thirteen. Just to be naughty, make it thirteen. Then you can take your blindfold off.”

 

Ben makes it to three before the sound of the door opens then closes. But he’s a good boy. He waits to eleven to take his blindfold off.

 

When, an indeterminable period of recovery later, he manages to shuffle to the bathroom, one of the stocking is still stuck to his chest and the biggest, goofiest smile he’s ever had is still plastered to his face.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt by someone on tumblr who’s name I can’t find anymore oh no! So, if you’re the one who messaged me with a prompt for ‘stockings and sensation play’ PLEASE let me know so I can give you credit for the inspiration for this story!!!
> 
> But, this series might be my most fun ever to write. I don’t know why and I’m a little worried about that. I’m not sure what it says about me, hmmmm…
> 
> Yeah, so… fun stuff, right? I’ve made an accompanying artwork for it, appropriately classy and kinky, you can check it out [HERE](https://lost-inthesunlight.tumblr.com/post/177126275833/image-accompaniment-to-my-latest-story-smooth-as)
> 
>  
> 
> on tumblr or drop me a line if you’d like at lost-inthesunlight.tumblr.com


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